Pastoral Reflections on Servanthood
March 24, 2005
Maundy Thursday
Texts: 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 / Psalm 116 / John 13:1-17, 31b-35

The Outreached Hand

Rev. Carrie Kreps Wegenast

There is a statue in Washington D.C. of Jesus holding a bowl in one hand and with the other extending it as if to invite those walking by to have their feet washed.  The bronze figure is barefoot and some argue he is wearing jeans.  This statue is not part of the government’s collection on the mall or in other D.C. parks.  Rather, this statue kneels in front of a medical care facility for homeless men and women in the D.C. neighborhood of Adams Morgan.  The Jesus statue watches over several benches where weary men and woman can come for rest. 

Some time ago, now, a man came to sit on the bench.  He sat and watched Jesus as he sipped the contents of his bottle covered in a brown paper sack.  Seeing a man like himself, homeless, a beggar, eventually he stood and offered the other man a drink.  Confused when Jesus did not reach for the bottle, he placed the bottle at his lips.  Still unresponsive, the man poured some of the drink on Jesus’ head.  Surprised that even this did not cause a response, the man left the bottle in Jesus outstretched hand.  

This statue is called “Serving Jesus” after the tradition reading of Jesus’ servant act at the Passover Table.  On the night we celebrate today, Jesus reached out his hand to his disciples.  He took their feet, one at a time, to wash away the dirt.  He rubbed off the dust from the places they had been.  He gently washed away the soreness and the weariness.  One at a time he dried the feet, so each could continue on their journey.

Jesus gave himself to his disciples as a servant.  He washed the part of their body that was the most dirty.  These men walked for a living.  They followed Jesus along dusty and dirty roads.  Their feet showed signs of their lifestyle.  And, Jesus washed them.   

There seems to be something else here too.  The disciples had to allow Jesus to wash their feet.  Peter tries to persuade Jesus not to but Jesus tells him it must be done.  There is hesitancy. 

Why hesitancy?  Of course, there is the common feet-touching phobia. I think, though, if we look deeper there is another reason for the hesitancy.  To allow one to wash your feet, to wash your hands, to care for you in some way, means accepting that person.  The washing is not skin deep.  It penetrates below the surface and the two people are connected.

Jesus’ outstretched hand is an invitation to this connection.  The homeless man seemed to get it.  He offered what he had to the man who was willing to wash his feet. 

Having their feet washed was just the beginning for the disciples.  Later in the meal, he offered the bread and the cup in his outstretched hand.  These elements, basic to human life, continue to be one way in which we can connect with Jesus.  Jesus offers himself.  His hand is outstretched to us, to the homeless man, and to all who desire to know him. 

Some may say that Jesus’ hand is empty, that it is waiting to be filled.  I disagree.  His hand isn’t really empty.  It is filled with his love and his father’s love for each one of us.  John Calvin writes of this connection offered through the table, “[Christ] invites us…to raise up our minds as often as we approach the sacred table, to an acknowledgment of the boundless love of God towards us, and to have our minds kindled up to true gratitude” (1 Cor. 11:24 Commentary).

With an outstretched hand, Jesus welcomes us to his table.  Thanks be to God.

To Serve and Be a Servant

Rev. Samuel Schaal

In this most dramatic moment in the shadows of his betrayal, execution and entombment – all of which he knew was coming – Jesus’ last major act was to wash the disciple’s feet. “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

I am struck with Peter’s initial response to Jesus’ gracious act: “Lord, do you wash my feet? … You shall never wash my feet.”  Peter was surprised that his master would serve in such a manner.  Perhaps he had difficulty being served by Jesus, as he felt it was his duty to serve. 

Elsewhere in the Bible we see the exact opposite.  Recall the story in Matthew and Mark about James and John.  They want to serve Jesus so they can sit at his left and right hand, “in…glory.” They don’t want to serve; they want to jockey for power.  With Peter, it’s different.  He’s uncomfortable with serving Jesus. 

I’m sure there are those in our congregation who might fit either response by the disciples.  I think that most of us, however, are more like Peter.  I know I am.  Most of us don’t have a problem washing feet. But we don’t know how to have our feet washed.  We don’t know how to accept this kind of love or service. 

We in this congregation are generally successful in the ways the world counts these things.  And we want to be seen as successful.  I myself fit this pattern.  My starched shirts and polished shoes are visible signs of my inward quest for success.

There’s nothing wrong with this, but this can lead to not knowing how to accept help.  Not knowing when to ask for help.  We think we have somehow failed when we get sick, when we are estranged from family or friends, when we have financial troubles, when we are lonely, when we are hurting.  Sometimes we know how to give but we don’t know how to receive.  “You shall never wash my feet.”

So in looking at this model of servanthood, we see that the first thing Jesus does is humble himself.  So perhaps the first requirement of servanthood is being served; opening ourselves so that we might accept service, accept love, accept help.

Contemporary writer Frederick Buechner says that the “central paradox of our condition—that what we hunger for perhaps more than anything else is to be known in our full humanness, and yet that is often just what we also fear more than anything else.”

To be able to open ourselves to each other – and to God – as we are, in our full humanness: this is something that we are at once both seeking and avoiding.

People so often think that ministers are somehow above the ravages of life.   That we spend all our time in prayer and are very comfortably set with God.  It might surprise you to know that suffering, sometimes deep suffering, is a common experience of ministers.  Many people go into ministry because they have had difficulty along the road of life.  To some degree you need to be conversant with suffering as a minister to attend to it in your work.  We aren’t ministers because we know all the answers.  We aren’t ministers because we are smarter than other people. We are ministers because we have suffered and in that suffering we have learned something.

We have been served, somewhere along life.  God has served us.  Now we are, at least trying, to serve God and God’s people.  Being a servant includes knowing how to accept being served. 

You may remember the children’s story of the Velveteen Rabbit.  The Velveteen Rabbit became real (and all worn out and shabby) by being loved.  I think we become real by being loved, and also by being vulnerable. 

When Jesus bowed down to wash the feet of his disciples, the disciples, in accepting this intimate act, in some ways became more real.

And so this is the commandment of our master on this Maundy Thursday.  That we love each other, that we serve each other, that we open ourselves to each other, that we open our hearts to each other, that we trust each other with those places in our hearts that are sometimes difficult to share. Amen.

A Mandate to Serve

Rev. Steven A. Peay, Ph.D.

Jesus gives the new mandate – “love one another, as I have loved you” – and then shows how it is to be carried out – through service. Jesus says that he gives us an example that we should do to each other what he has done to us. It seems straightforward, simple actually. Jesus tells us that servanthood, the act of being or becoming a servant, is following his word and his example.

In addition to the example of washing feet, I believe he gave us another example of service in the institution of the Lord’s Supper. Whether we call it that, or communion, or the Eucharist (which is my own favorite name for it because it’s not only Biblical, but descriptive of what it is – a ‘good gift’ and a ‘thanksgiving’ or remembrance of what God does for us), it is a powerful symbol of what we are to be and to do for one another. Jesus became Eucharist for us on the cross – broken and poured out in unselfish love. That, to me, is true servanthood and what we’re to become for each other is Eucharist. Further, it means that we seek to nourish one another and to build one another up. To be a follower of Jesus Christ is to become Eucharist, to be a servant, so that others might live, grow, and flourish. In this scheme of things the role of the minister is rather clear, we are ‘set apart’ to serve the servants.

I like what the contemporary English theologian Kenneth Leech wrote in his little book True Prayer: An Invitation to Christian Spirituality, “In the action of the Eucharist we can see the pattern of all spirituality: offering, blessing, breaking, and sharing. Our lives are offered to God within the redemptive offering of his Son. They are laid open to the sanctifying, consecrating power of the Spirit. They are broken and poured out in union with Christ for the life of the world. And they are, through Christ, brought into unity and communion in God with other lives which have been brought into Christ’s Body.” [p. 109] Here is the whole point of communion – and the reason why I am such an advocate for it being more frequently used among us – it reminds us of who we are and what we are called to do. It is a graphic reminder, one that we can’t always take in with our heads, but one that speaks to us of the basic ‘stuff’ of human life and of that life in community. And, as the Puritan preacher Stephen Charnock wrote of the Lord’s Supper, “If it be a token of Divine goodness to appoint it, it is no sign of our estimation of Divine goodness to neglect it.”

As we should not neglect this gift of God for the people of God, neither should we forget or neglect our mutual servanthood. Too often we treat our life together as church as we would any other club or civic organization. When it is convenient, we’re into it. When it isn’t – well, we’ll get back to it. This isn’t what Jesus commanded or instituted on that long ago night in the Upper Room. An example has been given. A new mandate set. If we are followers of Jesus, we are to be servants as he was. It’s that simple…and that difficult.